Bittersweet Cannolis
by FrederickHohenzollern
Summary: "Fine. Right now I don't know if I want to kiss you or throw you off a bridge." Without missing a beat Gilbert replied: "Can I pick?"


AN: I don't own anything, especially not the means of production.

...

Feliciano.

Lovino didn't hate his brother. He couldn't. And boy had he tried. He couldn't even hate Feliciano now that he was sitting across from Gilbert on the patio of a cafe because the German had some kind of 'announcement'- whatever that meant. Titles were irrelevant, but Gilbert was suppose to be his, they had mutual decided one day.

What he did hate was everyone else. Everyone who had ever come near with false pretenses. Everyone who had ever approached with ulterior motives. Everyone who ever thought he would be like Feliciano.

"Feliciano?" He asked once more, knowing the answer wouldn't change, but not having the words to say much more. The cappuccino in front of him began growing cold and the

"I'm sorry—" Gilbert began but had the sense to stop that sentence before he made it worse. The albino took a breath before continuing. "It isn't me, it's Holy Rome. There's nothing I can do about it, it has just always been that way"

Loving could hear him, but the words meant little. Whatever the reason, whatever the excuse, it didn't change the fact that Gilbert had confessed love for his brother.

"You have to listen to me!" The German raised his voice enough to pull Lovino from his thoughts. "When Holy Rome died his being- his person—" he struggled to explain. "It was shared between Ludwig and I. Ludwig got more of it, but I kept the memories. I hadn't told anyone until now."

"I DON'T CARE!" A few people around them turned when the Italian shouted.

Lovino wasn't an idiot and he had been able to follow along Gilbert's explanation the first time around "The process, or whether it's anyone fault or not, doesn't change the fact that it /is/. That this whole time, this entire time that you've been with me, you've been in love with Feliciano!— that was it all along wasn't it? Him?" Lovino paused as he reached the realization in the midst of his yelling "This was never about being with me. This was about Feliciano, getting close to him, or is it because I look like him?" He spat the words with venom because he would drown in it otherwise.

Gilbert either didn't want to reply or didn't have one.

Always Feliciano.

"I know what you're feeling- it isn't always about your brother" The German interjected.

"You lied to me this whole time!"

"I had to— if I told you this, in the beginning, you would have rejected me"

"With good reason! Why choose now of all times to tell me…"

"Because I wanted- I needed to be entirely honest with you. Nothing is going to change, Ludwig makes your brother happiest and that is how it's going to stay. I have never chased after Feli and I never intend to."

There was a lump in his throat he wouldn't be able to get rid of any time soon, but he held his head up high. "And you think I can live with that? You think I can stay with you knowing that I'm your second choice? Your consolation prize for not stealing Ludwig's boyfriend?"

"Damnit! Stop making this so difficult! I'm telling you this because I'm asking /you/, not your brother, to marry me, to be with me, officially, exclusively, whatever other synonyms you can think of`!" Gilbert shouted the proposal in what had to be the least romantic way possible.

It almost made Lovino stop.

Almost.

But Gilbert continued. "I could have- you know— not told you about this, but I wanted to be honest with you! Fully and completely honest before I asked you"

Despite his momentary silence, the effect of three million thoughts and emotions clouding his mind and threatening to make him cry in the middle of the cafe, the Italian managed to reply with a steady voice. "I'd rather die."

With that he stood up, picking up his jacket from the back of the back of the chair and swiftly making his way out not daring to look back.

...

He hadn't even reached the other side of the street when a pair of arms caught him.

"Let go of me bastard! Lovino screamed bloody murder as he tried to free himself.

"I will, I will!" The familiar voice promised "As long as you don't run away! Let me at least take you home, okay" Gilbert bargained.

"No way in hell! I don't need you" he assured

"Don't be stubborn, I know this didn't go as planned and you're— owe! hey—" the German dodged a fist just in time, continuing right where he left off "and you're mad at me—"

"—Really?! What was your first clue?" Lovino's sarcasm never failed him. Even when he had nothing, he had sarcasm.

"My point being—" Gilbert went on as if he weren't holding a flailing man screaming profanities in the middle of the street "You'll ruin your shoes if you walk all the way home"

Almost instantly the Italian stilled, seeming to consider the piece of information. Cursing himself mentally he recalled he was wearing his good dress shoes because this was supposed to be a nice evening, and nice evenings went supposed to end up in screaming matches.

"F-Fine" The bravado from before seemed to have died down and in place of anger there was only sorrow left. Even when they reached the car Lovino kept his gaze out the window because if he looked anywhere else he would certainly cry.

Gilbert seemed to understand this - or perhaps was trying to keep from crying himself because the ride was silent until they pulled up in front of Lovino's apartment.

He opened his mouth to say something but Gilbert beat him to it.

"I do love you, you know that right?"

Whatever the Italian had been about to say before had now died on the tip of his tongue and was replaced by "Go to hell!" As he scrambled out of the car, slamming the door as hard as he could before stomping into the building.

It was something, at least something he could physically do to justify how betrayed and hurt he truly was because the anger had died off.

...

Lovino wondered who was the bigger idiot. Gilbert - for obvious reasons - or himself, for missing the other after only a few days of isolation. He had gone through all the boring stages of grieving - anger, denial, whatnot - and had bounced back and forth between blaming himself for this and blaming the world, nothing new. He had his tantrums, had cried for hours, had broke not one but two of vases, and smoked an entire pack out on the balcony. All the usual.

He was still upset of course, and it really did still hurt, but after only 4 days of ignoring calls on this phone, knocks on his door and messages through every app imaginable from the outside world, he was beginning to grow bored, and worse, lonely.

It was on the fifth day, and not a day too soon because he had just managed to get himself together - it was amazing what a clean shoe and a freshly dry-cleaned shirt could do, it was practically therapeutic - that there was a knock on his door. There had been plenty over the past few days but Lovino decided to open it this time.

"Here to finish me off?" He said when he saw Gilbert standing in the hall.

Gilbert's expression was a perfect mixture of genuine concern and amusement.

"Don't kid yourself, I'm the one in danger here" he retorted holding up a paper bag as if shielding himself. "Cannoli. Yes, from the bakery on 22nd" he answered before the question was even asked. "A peace offering?"

"I haven't attacked… yet" Lovino replied, taking the bag and allowing the other inside.

"No, but I've seen you during times of war and that's enough"

The comment made Lovino, who was in the kitchen, pause. He slowly put the two mugs he was pulling from the cupboard down on the counter. When Gilbert brought back nostalgia it was hardly a good sign for Lovino.

Still, he busied himself making them coffee with one of the pastries already in hand while Gilbert took a seat.

"I know you didn't come all the way from Berlin to hand deliver sweets - there are apps for that - so what are you really doing here?"

Gilbert looked sincerely taken aback by the question. He was treading carefully, so clearly, he understood what he had done to Lovino, but was perhaps hoping the Italian had forgiven him by now?

"Well, is it that shocking that I wanted to see you?" He answered the question with a question, knowing it irked the Italian. A tiny smirk grazed his lips.

"Considering my last words to you were, and I quote, 'Go to Hell', I figured the trip would take more than just a few days.

"A week" Gilbert corrected "It's been a week of you ignoring my calls and texts, and everyone else's calls and texts"

Of

This was beginning to sound more like a lecture and Lovino look a large bite to keep himself from growing.

"We were beginning to worry about you. I was worried." He explained.

"Great, well as you can see, I am perfectly fine. So if that was all then you can—"

"Don't play games Lovino." The German warned as Lovino set a cup of coffee in front of him, maybe a little too hard.

"What do you want from me?" The Italian snapped back "I think I said enough last week, I think we both did."

"I can smell your cigarettes"

His cheeks burned red for just a second before regaining composure.

"What do you want me to tell you! That- That I spent the last 5 days holed up in here drinking because you're in love with my brother?"

"Not me—"

"Yes, how could I forget, it's not you, it's just your memories which are only a part of your entire being"

Both of them paused, allowing silence to take over for a second.

Loving was about to ask him to leave, there was no point in going through this all over again, the yelling and fighting which would surely lead Lovino into hibernation for another week when Gilbert spoke up.

"Would you have said yes?"

"huh?" His heart sank to into the pit of his stomach for the hundredth time that week.

"The proposal. I was serious about that. If I hadn't told you about Holy Rome and Feliciano, would you have agreed to be with me?"

His heart was beating erratically, still in his stomach, but rapidly nonetheless.

"Why bother with hypothetical scenarios" Lovino rolled his eyes

Gilbert glared at the other "Because it's pretty personal to me, that's why."

"If I answer will you walk out the door and never come back?" He posed.

"Is that truly what you want?"

"When has that ever mattered? I've never gotten what I wanted"

"You're stalling"

"Damn you bastard."

Lovino shifted on the couch, staring down Gilbert on the arm chair across from him.

"I wish I'd never met you, Prussia" with a deep breath and eyes focused on the wall adjacent Gilbert he spoke low, not wanting to be heard, wishing he were anywhere but here. "I would have said yes."

The Italian put a hand over his mouth for a second, as if he could take the words back. "Don't you dare think for one second that I don't hate you and wouldn't kill you if I got the chance!" Lovino threatened but Gilbert was already halfway across the living room, crossing over towards him.

Before he could speak, before he could move, before he could think, he was once more in Gilbert's arms. It was bittersweet.

"I'd deserve it"

"You t-think I won't!" Lovino protested, voice wavering with each syllable. "Let go of me" he demanded because it was too much to handle. The warmth, the sweet scent, the comfort of being held, he wanted it so much- too much.

The albino retreated, his cool hands on Lovino's much-too-warm cheeks for just a second before he scoot back on the couch.

For a brief second, they sat there sharing the same pain, the same exhausted glaze, and the same frustration.

"Fuck this I can't" Lovino grumbled, rubbing his temples with his finger tips. "I give up, I don't want to think about this anymore, I can't think about this anymore"

"Then don't" Gilbert offered sympathetically "Just rest for a while. I'm not giving you an ultimatum. Let me take care of you, I owe it to you for all the problems I caused."

"You can start passing me the last cannoli in the bag."

...

He'd always known it was too good to be true. Lovino woke up, tucked into Gilbert's side, perfectly comfortable as the other snored lightly in the early morning. The first few times Gilbert had slept over and Lovino had woken up like this he remembered thinking it was too good to be true. He was too content. Pessimism aside, he'd been right.

Bare chests pressed together and the other's lips in his hair were enough to make even the coldest of hearts melt.

"It's too early for you to be thinking so loudly. You'll give yourself a headache." A raspy voice weighed with sleep suggested. Its owner was right, but no way in hell Lovino would tell Gilbert that he was right.

"I wasn't even thinking…" he lied unconvincingly and Gilbert' gave his side a squeeze in retaliation for it.

"Fine. Right now I don't know if I want to kiss you or throw you off a bridge."

With out missing a beat Gilbert replied: "Can I pick?"

"That's not how it works…" Lovino mumbled, voice still heavy with the sleep that clung to him. "Remind me why I let you stay?"

"Because you missed me too much and I make a decent pillow"


End file.
